


Just Levi

by levis_taller_than_me



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Murder, Prostitution, Torture, implied rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:55:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3250451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levis_taller_than_me/pseuds/levis_taller_than_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Levi finds his mother dead, Uncle Kenny is the only one who can care for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Levi

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,  
> So this just a one shot for now, but if I get any more ideas I may make it a chapter work - let me know what you think! Of course I have no idea what Levi's mother looks like or what happened to her; I'm going off the assumption that Levi's mother was the prostitute Kenny talked about in the latest chapter. Thanks for reading!  
> Stay gold

Levi didn't like it when the men came over.

  
He didn't like how loud they were, or how they smelled, or how dirty their shoes were. Sometimes, men came and they were barefoot, their feet almost looked stained in dirt and mud. Levi couldn't imagine what the rest of them looked like, and there were times when he was glad his Mommy made him stay under the bed when they came over.

  
Then, there were times when he wished he could go somewhere else, even if it was to the only other room in the house. Levi didn't mind sharing a bed with his Mommy, especially when he woke up from having a bad dream or it was cold (sometimes, his Mommy let him have _all_  the covers, and that made the four year old very happy). But Levi wished he had his own bed when the men came over, because he had to hide under the bed until they left. He had to be a big boy and not cry, even when the headboard slammed against the wall or the bed railings shook to the point he was certain the mattress was going to collapse on him. Levi couldn't speak, even if the men called his Mommy mean names or made her cry. And if his Mommy had to kneel in front of the men, he had to close his eyes and pray in his head too, because that's what his Mommy was doing, even though she sometimes made noises like she was choking. And no matter what, Levi had to stay under the bed until the men left and his Mommy folded the special sheets she used for the men and put them in the closet. It wasn't so bad when his Mommy let him have his bink bink because it helped him sleep, but lately she told him he was getting too big for it.

  
Levi knew when he had to go under the bed when his Mommy changed the bedsheets. The ones they slept on were old and smelled funny, but had a thick cover. The ones she used for the men were a dark color - red, she told him once - and smelled nice because she washed them on nights the men visited. Levi was not allowed to sit on these sheets, but he didn't understand why. One day after a man had left, his mother had to go to the kitchen to wash out her mouth, so Levi shimmed out from under the bed and looked at the sheets.

  
There was a dark stain that Levi was weary of, but Levi carefully touched the corner with his thumb and forefinger. The fabric was soft, and he wondered why his Mommy saved this sheet for the men and not for her.

  
"Levi!" his mother had yelled when she saw her son touching the bedsheet. She smacked her son's hand away from the material, making him shrink back and hold his hand with the other. Levi had never been disciplined before - he never had too. He was a good boy who loved his Mommy, and his eyes began to tear at the thought of her being mad at him.

  
She had hugged him and rocked him, telling him she was sorry and that she loved him.

  
Levi's mother didn't like it when the men came over either, but she had been a prostitute since she was fourteen and knew it better than any other job the underground had to offer. She had to stop when she found out she was pregnant; no one wanted a pregnant whore, she was told. Her brother offered to beat her until "the problem" was gone, but she reminded him it was his fault she was a prostitute to begin with, and that silenced him. 

  
Levi looked like her; the Ackerman traits were dominate. He had a heart shaped face and a teeny nose that she loved to kiss, and hair as black as night.

  
But it was his eyes that startled her.

  
They were a grey-ish color, not really blue. Levi somehow inherited those eyes instead of the Ackerman "killer" eyes (coined so by her brother), that were so dark you couldn't tell the pupil from the iris. She didn't mind that Levi had these eyes, if only she could remember who else had eyes like those.

  
Prostitution was a boring job, and all the men blurred together. The month Levi was conceived, she had been with at least 27 men, and none had left a great impression. She was working in a brothel then, so she was certain Levi's father was part of the Military Police or had money above ground; he probably had a wife and kids too - she couldn't count the men who took off their wedding bands before they bedded her, as if taking off the ring made the deed less wrong. Some men even had conversations about their wives. They talked about how they were _forced_ to come sleep with her, because their pregnant wives were being bitchy, or complained about their girlfriends wanting to wait until marriage to have sex.

  
Levi's mother hated these men, just as much as she hated the men that thought they had the right to call her a whore or bitch, or slap her and choke her. If she were being honest though, she didn't mind sleeping with men like that because they often paid more - sometimes even triple what she offered. She figured it had something to do with their conscience, but she never thought on it long.

  
Levi's mother was prepared for a man like that today. He was a recurring customer, and she figured it had something to do with the fact that brothels wouldn't allow customers to beat the prostitutes heads against the headboard by their hair. He was a big, loud man, but she knew he was important above ground, and if he paid double up front as well as a tip, she let him do what he want.

  
She needed the money.

  
Levi's birthday was coming up, and she had to buy him a tea set. He had been eyeing it for a while now and told her he would shine shoes to make money for it, but the last thing she wanted was for her son to be working out on the streets.

  
"Levi, are you going to be good?" she asked while she laid the red sheets on the bed. Levi was already under it, and she could hear him playing with a stick and some rocks.

  
"Yeah," he said, quietly. She bent her head down and stuck out her tongue, making her son laugh.

  
"I love you, Mommy," Levi said, reaching his hand out to touch hers.

  
"I love you, too," she whispered, warmth spreading through her as Levi wrapped his fingers around her thumb. "Do you want bink bink?" she asked, standing up to avoid looking at her son's loving gaze longer than she had too.

  
"Will I still be a big boy?" Levi asked, uncertain.

  
"Absolutely," she told him, faking a cheery tone as she doused the pacifier in sleeping medicine. "Even big boys need a bink bink sometimes."

  
She kneeled by the bed and popped the pacifier in Levi's eager mouth. He sucked greedily, and she waited a moment as she always did. Levi never complained about his bink bink being wet and he never made comments about it tasting funny, but his mother still worried about the liquid she had bought from a vender last year. He promised it had no taste and it would make someone fall asleep in minutes, but only lasted two hours or so. She felt guilty for drugging her son, but it helped her sleep better at night.

  
The man arrived shortly after, and he wasted no time taking off what little clothes she had and gripping her hair in between his fingers. She tried stopping him because he had not paid yet (this was the first time this had happened with him) but she felt a cool blade press above her collarbone and knew not to argue. This wasn't the first time this had happened, and of she behaved, she may still get a tip.

  
However, this was not what the man had in mind.

  
Levi woke up two hours later, disoriented. He was still under the bed, which was odd because normally when he took a nap there he woke up in bed with his Mommy. He waited a few minutes and checked for muddy shoes, and after finding none and hearing no noise, he carefully crawled out from under the bed.

  
The red bedsheet was still on the bed, but that wasn't what caught Levi's eye. His mother was in bed too, and she was naked. Her eyes were open, and her throat had a big cut on it, and even though he hadn't done it in a really long time Levi felt his pajama bottoms get warm and wet.

  
He started crying then, because he was a big boy and had an accident, and because he wanted to help his Mommy but didn't want to touch the bed sheets and make her mad. Levi had never felt so helpless in his life.

Levi didn't know where to go or what to do, but he only had to wait an hour or so.

  
Levi heard the front door swing open, and like a good boy he dove back under the bed.

 

He heard boot stomping to the bedroom. He heard the bedroom door open.

  
Then, silence.

  
Levi had his eyes closed, but when no one entered the bedroom he felt safe opening them. He could see a pair of boots, but he didn't recognize them. The person ran to the bed, saying his Mommy's name over and over, and the bed was squeaking but not like it usually did. It took Levi a moment to recognize the voice, and even when he did he wasn't excited about it.

  
"Levi!" his uncle yelled, crouching down and peering under the bed. "You damn brat! I thought - what the fuck happened?"

  
It scared Levi when his uncle called him names and said bad things, and he was now even more frightened than he was before. Would his uncle think he had hurt his Mommy?

  
His uncle reached under the bed and pulled the toddler out by the front of his pajamas, much more harshly than he intended.

 

"What happened?" He yelled at the child before noticing his nephew's red eyes, snotty nose, and damp backside. "Tch. Dirty brat."

  
"I not dirty," Levi whimpered, his throat feeling like it was going to close. "I wan' Mommy, not you! You - you _stupid_!"

  
The man sighed, trying to comprehend a four year old and finding his sister dead. There was nothing he could do about his sister - it was far too late for that; he could tell by the incision. The least he could do was clean up his little shit of a nephew.

  
He picked up Levi, careful to not let him see his dead mother. He pressed the boy's face against his chest, muttering, "Uh - hey, it's alright. Uncle Kenny's here, huh? It'll be alright."

  
"I don' like you," Levi blubbered, his nose running.

  
"You're no prize either," Kenny muttered as he set the boy on the kitchen counter, stripping away his soiled clothes. He waited on the boy to step in the sink, but after a moment of them staring stupidly at each other Kenny blurted, "What? Did your mother not bathe you?"

  
Levi's face went hot. "Not without bubbles," he said, his few teeth gritted.

  
Kenny rubbed his temples and adjusted his hat. He _really_ didn't have time for this.

  
"You can either stay here and smell like piss with your mother, who's going to smell worse than you in a few days, or you can go with your evil uncle and get something to eat. Which sounds better?"

  
Despite Levi's glare, his stomach growled. He gave in to his evil uncle, who fooled him into drinking whiskey once. The liquid burned his throat and made him sick, and he had never trusted the long haired man since. But in the sink, Kenny carefully washed Levi, and not just the parts that had been wet. Kenny washed Levi's face twice and under his arms, then rubbed his thumb and fore finger together. He made and "O" with these fingers and blew, creating a single bubble. Levi popped it with a smile.

  
Levi dried himself off while Kenny went back to the bedroom to get him a few changes of underwear and an outfit. He tried not looking at his sister, but he did close her eyes.

  
As Kenny dressed his nephew, he felt guilt. He felt guilty he had made his sister prostitute when they were younger and money was low. He felt guilty that he had started killing MP's and would go to prison if he tried getting help for his sister.

  
He felt guilty that he sent her murderer to her.

  
Kenny was a notorious killer, but people were catching on that he only killed MP's. He couldn't bring himself to kill innocent people, so he paid someone to do it for him. Kill an older man and two women in the same manner Kenny did - just make sure the man was at least forty, and the women didn't have children.

  
Kenny wrestled Levi into a small pair of trousers that were still too large for the boy, and he wondered if the man knew the woman he killed had a child. Kenny figured he didn't - he had already paid the man, and if the murderer knew Levi was under the bed he would have been killed, too.

  
When the boy had his dirty shoes on, Kenny lifted his nephew and set him on the floor.

  
"Alright, let's go," he mumbled, heading for the door.

  
"Wait," Levi called, practically running behind Kenny, not being able to keep up with his long strides.

  
"What?"

  
"Up up!"

  
Kenny inspected the boy, who had his arms outstretched towards him. Levi smiled, and for a moment Kenny knew what trust must feel like. He lifted the boy by his armpits and settled the boy against his shoulder, then kept one hand under the boy's bottom.

  
"Let's get out of here," Kenny said quietly, and Levi shook his head in agreement.

  
Levi did not tell his mother goodbye. Two weeks later, Kenny read over the newspaper while Levi gorged himself on breakfast ham.

  
" ** _Kenny The Ripper Strikes Again!_** " The front page read. " ** _Military Police are investigating the murder of an underground prostitute, whose throat was slit the same fashion famous serial killer Kenny The Ripper..._** "

  
"Uncle Kenny?" Levi asked, his cheeks stuffed with ham and his lips greasy.

 

"What?"

  
"When ca' I go home?"

  
Kenny handed the boy a napkin and took a sip of his coffee. Kenny had been buying the boy's silence with cheap toys and expensive meat, but he figured the question was coming sooner or later.

  
"Your mother's not there," he said simply. "And she's not coming back."

  
Five minutes later, Levi was still crying and had thrown up all over Kenny's jacket. The man tried not being upset by it, but a crying brat and the smell of vomit drew a lot of attention, even underground. Kenny took off his jacket and picked up Levi, rocking him without rhythm. Somehow, this seemed to help and Levi's sobs soon turned to sniffles.

  
"Shh," Kenny cooed. "I'm your home now."

  
"Pr-ise?" Levi mumbled, shaking against his uncle. His breath stunk and people were staring at him, but he felt a little safe in his big uncle's arms.

  
"Promise."

  
~~~

  
Eight years had passed, but Kenny still remembered his name. Still remembered his face, his hair, his ugly shady eyes.

  
Eight years, and his time had come.

  
Or, rather, Levi's time had.

  
The man was slumped in the chair, his arms and feet tied. His face was swollen and covered in blood; Kenny had been beating him for four hours. The man swore he didn't know who Kenny was, and after a half hour twelve year old Levi had grown bored of watching. What had this man done that pissed off his Uncle?

  
It wasn't until Kenny got a pair of plyers and began pulling the man's teeth that he "suddenly recognized" Kenny. Kenny smiled then, and it was a smile that Levi recognized.

Kenny said a woman's name, but the man said he didn't know her.

  
"But you do," Kenny stated. "I paid you to kill to women and a man. Remember?"

  
"Yeth," the man responded weakly, his tongue had been sliced for lying about his name an hour earlier.

  
"That woman was my sister and his mother," Kenny whispered as he glanced towards Levi, and a deafening silence filled the room.

  
The man glanced at Levi and looked scared of him for the first time. At twelve, Levi was only four foot ten and weighed hardly eighty pounds, but his uncle made sure he was safe. Kenny had never made him fight or kill before, even though Levi was well aware of what his Uncle did.

  
That was about to change.

  
"Come here," Kenny instructed, and Levi obeyed.

  
The man in the chair was too tired to fight. He knew what was to come, but hated the fact that it was Kenny's nephew who was going to do it.

  
"Ca't do it yerself?" the man mumbled, blood flowing from his lips. Despite his pain, he smirked at Kenny. "Gotta ha'e a lil' punk do it?"

  
Fear flashed through Levi as Kenny laughed, slapping his knife in Levi's hand. The knife was heavy and cool.

  
"Do it, Levi," Kenny snarled. "This is the man that killed your mother."

  
Levi gripped the knife but didn't move. The man smirked at Levi, then spit blood in his face.

  
"I did more than kill 'er," he smiled.

  
Levi did not know what happened. He was against the wall, his Uncle gripping his wrist, trying to get the knife out of his hands. Levi was kicking him, screaming, "You killed her, too! You killed her, too!"

  
Kenny managed to twist the boy around and slam him against the wall, his arm twisted. Kenny waited a few minutes, giving Levi time to calm down. Finally, Kenny slowly released the boy.

  
Levi turned to see his uncle, who now had a cut going down his jawline. The man in the chair was dead, his face and throat had been slashed -

  
Levi began to gag, and Kenny turned. Levi vomited, but only a little. He felt embarrassed and ashamed. He tuned to see Kenny wiping blood from his jawline.

  
"I'm sorry," Levi whispered.

  
"Don't be," Kenny responded, seeming not bothered at all. "You're definitely an Ackerman. No doubt about that."

  
"Ackerman?" Levi asked. "Is...that my surname?"

  
"Indeed," Kenny yawned. Torturing someone for four hours was hard work. "Let's get back, eh?"

  
Levi walked behind his uncle, wondering who would take care of the dead man and his vomit, but thought better than to ask.

  
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Levi asked quietly. "About my surname?"

  
"Didn't think you could live up to it," Kenny responded simply, scratching his chin. "But I'm pretty proud."

  
Levi walked behind his uncle, navigating through the underground city. He wanted a better life, and wondered what he could do to get it. He was uneducated, but knew how to kill. He wondered if that would help him in the future, but Levi knew that wasn't the future he wanted.

  
_Once I get out of here,_ Levi thought, _I'm never going by Ackerman. I'll just be Levi._

  
_Levi will be enough._

**Author's Note:**

> I do not give permission for this work to be uploaded, shared, or copied without my consent.


End file.
